I Don't Know About You...

But I feel KO'ed this afternoon. We had dancing first thing this morning, (well Tiny did, not me) after dropping Matt to work, then we seemed to be in the car for the four hours following. Not much chop.

The smalls are kicking back watching a movie, while I've been pottering about in the garden, and feeling a bit weak and tired - I'm yearning for a cat nap.


Can anyone identify that pesky blue flower in the top picture? It seems to be a weed that's impregnated my front garden with itself, and is now rife with this dirty blue flower thing. Anyone? 


Meanwhile, back on other matters, I've finally joined Instagram. You can find me under PottyMouthMama. Quelle surprise! 


Finally, here's a song to send you on your way. You dig?

The Emancipation of the Garden

I spent ANZAC Day emancipating the garden from almost two years worth of weeds. It felt so good. Again. I can see where I have been - I see results. Tangible results. 


I want this to be a habit! I truly do! 


I conquered those pesky weeds, grew my own pile of offcuts, found a pumpkin vine sprouting from our compost heap; found some cherry tomatoes sprouting too. 


While I was pottering about in the garden, it made me feel connected with my family. My Mum loves gardening, I think my Dad secretly does too, both sets of my grandparents enjoyed spending time out in their gardens. Isn't it such an easy way to feel connected to the Earth - and slow down your day? 


I've now been sharing with the Doctor and Tiny some plans to plant a wee fairy garden at the front, with daisies and some prettiness. 


Because we rent, I've thought - well we rent, why would I want to garden. Then I came to this week and thought, I want to live in a space that is nice, that feels good, that looks pretty. Gardening is a two way street - and it's win:win both ways. You get to feel that satisfied exhaustion, and you can see results and feel good about it. 


Why am I so late to come to this gardening party?! 


Best of all - I found the water meter. I found the flipping water meter peeps! This is license to party like it's 1999.  It is in the middle of the front fence, and is completely obscured by trees. And weeds. Now it is FREE! 


This lady has totally inspired me. Can you imagine anything more dreamy? Nope. Me neither.


image via Daily Dream Decor

Therapeutic Monday:: In The Garden

I spent some time in the garden yesterday. Actually a lot of time. With secateurs in hand. 

The reason for this spate of Gardening Australia? I had to find the water meter for the water meter reader man. Do you think I found it? Nope. Despite hacking into everything - and being completely disgusted with the weeds that think it's ok to procreate in my garden. I still have not found the meter. 


However I did find my inner gardener, my inner Peter Cundal. It was sprinkling and cold and yet - I was stalwart and continued hacking into those overgrown bushes (not that bush, manners, please). I must be channeling my mum. And my grandmother. Both keen gardeners. Now there are piles of clippings all over our garden. And nowhere to put them. Novice fail. 


It was good to do physical work - to feel the physical tiredness, and see tangible results. 


In other ground breaking news Tiny went back to preschool today - and I got to spend some time with her and her classmates, decorating picture plates. Boy it was funny, I was chuffed to spend time there, and today was a triumph. Tiny wore jeans. Crumbs. She gave me a cute attack. 


Tonight Tiny told me she wanted to climb onto my back and never hop off, no matter what, she'd just ride up there on my back - and never-ever- everlet me go, then she would yell: "this is paradise". Chris Martin has been brainwashing her. 


Sigur Ros. This is beautiful. A good reason for me to move to Iceland. Good music and crazy knits. 


Tomorrow, on ANZAC day, we're planning to head into the city. I enjoy seeing the diggers, waving, acknowledging them. I'd like to take the smalls to see that, with rosemary pinned on. 

I Heart Sundays

Beautiful, beautiful Sundays. How I love them. Come Monday, they are merely memories, but while you're in the thick of Sundays, rejoice! For Sundays are Sundays! And that means one thing! Family day.

We wandered the Lisgar Gardens together, looking for sneeches aka leeches - and celebrated the lack of them.

By now you should understand that I love gardens. The Hunter Valley Gardens. The Royal Botanic Gardens. Lisgar Gardens. They are my oasis in a busy city-life. I'm always blogging about gardens. And yet I am a failed gardener. An ex-composter. A wannabe green-thumb.

This is the four of us. Together in the gardens. Where the Doctor told us he didn't want to be, and then stumbled upon koi fish and was turned around. Where Tiny declared her undying love for 'flowlas'. Where Matt and I explored the layers of flowers, fauna and found a bush turkey.

Hello and goodbye Sunday. Until we meet again.

In The Sunshine

I got sun-fattened on the weekend. Like a cat sitting in the warmth, I lapped it up.

We were lucky to be invited to spend a blissful day at the Hunter Valley Gardens on Sunday. It was such a fun day, and is the only day of the week where the four of us get to spend together. I loved that. Lolling about in the sunshine with Matt, my smalls tearing off to a jumping castle, to an Easter egg hunt, to race in an egg and spoon race, a sack race - it was that blissful and reminded me that simple things are so good.

Afterwards we wandered through the gardens by ourselves. Last time I imagined I was Marie Antoinette. This time I took myself to Tuscany.

I smelt a rose that took me back to my childhood, in my grandmother's rose garden, that smell, so intoxicating. I can even smell it now. A real old-fashioned rose.

And then I stumbled upon a willow tree. When Matt and I were first engaged, and dreaming up our wedding, we agreed that we'd get married somewhere with a willow tree. I love willow trees. We didn't get the willow tree, but if we were into renewing our vows, well we'd be underneath this willow tree.

We were treated to a show by Crocstars, and the kids got to touch a crocodile, a snake, you know, the usual. Pretty fascinating, and that underbelly of the croc, so soft!

There are some great things happening in the HVG these Easter holidays (I've put the links here!). So much to do to keep the smalls happy and busy:

- Easter Long Weekend Egg Hunt

- The Dinosaur Petting Zoo

- the whole Easter program is here

But seriously, no matter what time of year, I love these gardens - they are magical. All year 'round there is something to look at, to explore, and wear out the small people!

A Hidden Garden

We have spent the afternoon exploring a hidden garden, trees heavy with camellia blooms, red, pink, variegated, so pretty for small fingers to peel back petals. So pretty strewn across the neatly clipped lawn.

Camellias are one of those flowers that appeal to me for many reasons, but mainly, they are just so ridiculously beautiful and I think, old-fashioned. I like old-fashioned flowers.

Image via Sazanka - a 1958 edition of The History of Camellias

Basil and Babies

The Doctor's been taking photos of our garden. This one is a little blurry, yes, but it does show how our basil, under the gentle guidance of the Doctor/Horticulturalist (try typing that ten times fast) is beginning to grow quite quickly. And see those small yellow flowers? Yes well they are our tomatoes. They're already fruiting up beautifully. We are getting super excited!

Winners of the Sooki Baby giveaway are:

- 15: Amy Paul at Life With Soul
- 4: Yoo hoooooo Ellieboo
- 1. Suzy at Floating World

Woot Woot! Email me your deets and I'll get your prizes sent out. Thanks to everyone who entered. You're all top sheilas.

Jam Production Is Go!

The Doctor and I have been madly tending to our pots. Plucking wayward weeds. Watering. Sticking stakes back into crazy tilting leaning tower of tomatoes. Watering. Weeding. Ok ok, so you get the picture.

And today all our hard work culminated in our very first strawberry. We were proud!

You see, months ago we'd planted some strawberries in our small patch of dirt. We watered them. Tended them. Weeded them. (Ok ok, I know you get the drill). And then one day I went to check on them and my MIL's dog had dug into the strawberry patch and covered every single plant with piles and piles of dirt.

Feeling totally despondent we abandoned them. Those poor strawberry plants that we'd loved dearly. Drat the dog.

Today was momentous. We sat on the back step and we savoured that first strawberry. Well. One of us did. For a brief, very brief moment.

We dream big here. Jam production is go! Go jam production go!

PS - Don't forget to enter the giveaway! And if you can't think of a 'lightbulb moment' don't panic!

Blogtoberfest Day 18: The Emancipation of Our Courtyard

The Doctor and I have been hard at work in our small courtyard setting it free from years of wisteria, errant bougainvillea, and whatever else has decided to manifest itself into the soil and block out the sunlight. I'm not sure my MIL is so impressed with our handiwork, but we're sick of the mosquitoes (and we're thinking of it as a medical priority for the safety of T-Rex). We might also develop SAD and a lack of Vitamin D because there ain't a lot of sunshine beaming through, so on a multi-level we're taking care of business.

We're calling it the emancipation of our courtyard. Kind of like this emanicipation, but without the glass shattering singing.

Matt's busy studying, so the Doctor and I are honing our skills as horticulturalists. I even bought the Doctor his own pair of psycho-claws (secateurs) which he proudly wields, and a new pint-sized pair of gloves since one of his has gone AWOL. (Speaking of which Briars are making fab snug-fitting, latex beauties, perfect for budding gardeners (get it get it???) - you can buy them here).

PS - Did you know I secretly love Mariah Carey? My old flatmate and I always loved rocking out to Mariah. Quelle daggy, I know. Who's your secret music lurve?

When The Chips Are Down

I'd like to just fast-forward straight to the weekend if I may. I'm sure no one would protest?

This is one of those weeks when Mamas should be paid danger money (for all the stinky nap-naps, snotty noses, late nights, co-sleeping with legs askew and just plain gross things we have to do). I'm sick of this week and am saying so long suckaz to it.

If I had to come up with a highlight I'd be totes scraping the barrel at saying I've really enjoyed the discount on Lindt chocolate at my local IGA ($2.99 a block -yeeehaaaw!). I mean, if that's the best this week has to offer, then something's definitely wrong.

So in a bid to oust the sickness, boring-ness, and just plain fuddiness, the Doctor, Tiny and I visited the nursery to bring a little green into our grey-ness.

I've been blatantly snaffling cuttings of neighbour's geraniums (a la Cath at Chunky Chooky). I know geraniums are not for everyone, but when I think of Paris, I think of looking up at those high apartments with the flower pots in the windows, with colour oozing out. And that's what I want in our home. Except we're not in Paris. And we're not living in an apartment.

So I've doused the stems in hormone powder and bunged them in a pot. This is a no-brainer. A confidence builder.

The Doctor and I also bought some cherry tomatoes. My Mum told me that they were pretty simple to grow, so we're having a go at those too. And some basil. Anyone for some bruschetta in a few months?

A Petal or Two For You, Petal

Five of the best from our garden. Matt's grandfather was a mad keen camellia enthusiast. Winter time is as though the garden is alight with pinks, whites and fuschias of petals furiously unfurling in colour. It's tough to choose a favourite. So I choose them all.

This post is for Tania, who I seem to gross out all the time. Big camellia lovin' to you lady!

Just Look What I'm Filing This One Under

Today we've been busy despite the omnipresent heat.

We nipped down to the nursery at lunch time to pretty up the front of the house. I was in need of colour. Some pizazz. Unfortunately I neglected to get a photo of our colour. Though it's not been potted up yet - it's going to be - yes, dear reader, I will finish at least one of my projects. Amazing I know.

Tiny kept escaping out our kitchen door. That baby sure loves to get filthy. Rather than the softest of pinks, I should really be dressing her in sand, chocolate and any other natural kind of shade so her escapades are camouflaged. Napisan and I are firm friends.

To keep her in one spot I popped a saucepan of water outside with her, along with mandatory wooden spoon, and her favourite - a pint-sized ball. Kept her still for - oh - two minutes.

My hot weather wear is one of my very favourite dresses that I picked up at the markets yonks ago - just a little cotton number with Steven Seagulls (or if you prefer, they can be Jonathon Livingston Seagull). Thongs - compulsory (sheesh, just realised that if you're a US reader, you may be thinking that I'm saying g-strings are compulsory - for you dear US reader, please read flip-flops).

And here's where I am expecting MENSA to come knocking. Matt, for some reason, felt the urge to buy not one, not two, but four loaves of bread on Tuesday - AND a dozen small rolls. Given this sudden influx of carbohydrates, I am currently going gang-busters trying to use it all up before it becomes at one with penicillin. On the menu tonight - individual serves of garlic bread. Nigella, need a sidekick? Talk about genius.

Christmas Inspiration

I love the smell of Christmas. And I'm not talking the spices. I love the smell of Christmas beetles on a balmy Summer evening. I love the almost aching sound of cicadas chirping shrilly in the trees.

It's so close to Christmas. It's achingly close. It's giddy up close. And I have still got gifts to buy.

In particular, I find men very difficult to buy for. My husband is a case in point. I give him something, he says great thanks, and then a few months later I find him sneaking it out of the house to the charity bin. I know you're probably saying, at least it's going to a receptive home, but you know, it peeves me. I always give gifts with the line: if you don't like it, I'm very, very happy for you to return it (unless it's handmade by me) and get something you do dig.

Otherwise - *POOF* - I might as well have thrown cash into the wind.

My Dad is another hard-to-buy-for.

Inspiration anyone?

This afternoon I've been conjuring up an aromatic Christmas in the kitchen, baking my first ever batch of gingerbread. All those spices. It's beginning to smell a lot like Christmas.

PS - Have posted the Kimya Dawson CDs out to the winners today!

Eye Spy... Something In My Garden

Cam of Curlypops fame chose this weeks theme.

Here's what I spied in our garden yesterday. Three monkeys playing.

Head on over to Bug and Pop and say hi to Cindy to check out who else is playing Eye Spy.

Pretty Things

A while ago (too long ago) I was lucky enough to win a giveaway over at Flossy-P. If you've never been to visit Flossy-P, go now. She's a super cool gal who creates beautiful illustrations. She's one clever cookie. If Flossy-P lived next door, I'd bake her cookies, pick her flowers, pat her cat. Instead she's hanging with her over-55 friends, and I'm hanging with my silver foxes. Makes me think of this. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but you know, it'd be fun to hang with some contemporaries.

So Flossy-P bestowed on me such a cute prize. A Happy Happy Garden Card Pack (see the picture above) - five sweet cards for me to bestow on gardens around the 'hood that I deem worthy of loving (perfect for my walks, huh?). Cool idea, huh? And as a bonus, a great bookmark (which is timely, because I've been using bits of torn newspaper), and to top it all off - it was packaged up so nicely, I just didn't want to open it.

Anyway you can head over to Flossy-P's shop and get your own hit of Flossy-P goodness. Get it while it's hot, piping hot.

Merci, Flossy-P!